


What The Nummies Gave Me

by ace0389



Series: Tiny Problems [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fairies, Kid!Derek, Kid!Fic, M/M, Magic, Nudity, Pee, Pre-Slash, Scent Marking, Swearing, baby!derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-18
Updated: 2013-03-18
Packaged: 2017-11-12 09:01:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/489107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ace0389/pseuds/ace0389
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek persuades Stiles to go looking for wish-granting fairies in the woods. Stiles is given explicit instructions to convince them to grant him a wish. Things go according to plan... that is, until the fairies hypnotize Stiles and convince him to wish for Derek to turn into a toddler.</p><p>Fairies are tricky like that, you see.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nose Petting and Nipple Gnawing

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not smoking crack, I swear. I had all these thoughts of baby!Derek and I couldn't help myself.

**S** o maybe going deep into Beacon Hills Preserve to track down some fairies with Derek wasn’t his best idea. Stiles stumbled over a tree root, clutching at Derek’s jacket as he fell forward, his face dangerously close to hitting the ground. Derek saved him, of course, grabbing onto the back of his sweater and yanking him back onto his feet. The angry-looking red line on his neck was the only reminder of his lack of coordination.

“Thanks, buddy. Next time, because let’s be honest there’ll _be_ a next time, try to not _strangle me to death_ while saving me, alright? Cool.” Stiles straightened out his sweatshirt and rubbed his neck, his eyes skimming over Derek’s face to land on his eye brows. One was raised up, like a flag signaling that it was dinner time.

“Next time, _try not to kill yourself_.” And with that, Derek lowered his flag and shoved his hands into his jacket. He began to move ahead, ignoring Stiles’ indignant squawk behind him.

“Wait up!” Stiles jogged forward, falling into step behind the newly turned Alpha. It had been a month since Jackson had shed his cocoon and turned into a frightening, leprechaun-channeling werewolf. Gerard was still missing, and no one had seen or heard of Erica and Boyd since that night. Personally, Stiles thought they ran off into the sunset to explore their newfound _wolfyness_ together. Intimately. Many, many times, probably in many freaky animal positions.

“What exactly are we doing out here again? I know you said fairies but I honestly don’t see what the big deal about a bunch of fairies could be. I mean, they’re little insect eating butterflies, right? They just look like little bitty humans. Right, Derek?” Stiles turned to look at him, frowning as he saw the eyebrow go up again. It was becoming a bad habit of Stiles to secretly try to provoke the raising of the eyebrow. It was one of the few emotional responses he got from the Alpha- beyond the growling, teeth snapping, and roaring.

“Fairies don’t just fly around. They. Have. Magic. Which you would know if you had been _listening._ ” Stiles choked as he was jerked backwards, feeling the tight grasp of Derek’s hand on his neck. He turned to face him, wincing at the snarl on the Alpha’s face.

“To be fair, we were in your abandoned subway station which, by the way, very cozy. And reminiscent of a murder scene. And I might just have nicked my finger on a rusty pipe, so I was worried about tetanus…” Stiles trailed off as Derek’s eyes began to glow. Now his eyebrows were flat and angry looking, one of his other specialties. He was an eyebrow connoisseur at this point.

“Shutting up now,” he meeped, reaching a hand back to gently stroke the claws currently pricking the skin of the back of his neck. Derek grunted and released him, striding forward again without a second look.

So this was a thing. A thing that he and Derek did when they were alone. It was a game Stiles lovingly dubbed, “101 Sure-fire Ways to Piss off Derek”. It certainly wasn’t his favorite game, but it _was_ the one he found himself most likely to be playing (Stiles also secretly played 10 Sure-fire Ways to Calm Derek Down, which didn’t have as big of a success rate. He would, however, have to add finger nail stroking to the list).

He followed after Derek, flinging the hood of his sweater up and sighing. They had been in the forest for three hours now and the sun was beginning to set. One gaze up at the sky told him it was nearing 7:00 PM.

One hour later the sun had set, and there were still no fairies to be seen.

“Yo, Derek. Not that I’m not enjoying our hike together, because honestly who wouldn’t, but I felt I should point out there is a severe lack of fairies around.” Stiles walked into the back of him, bouncing off the solid wall of Derek’s muscles. He gagged at the taste of leather he had gotten into his mouth, silently praying that his jacket wasn’t covered in bunny guts.

“I beg to differ,” Derek growled, turning around and slapping Stiles upside the back of his head. He yelped as he bent his torso forward, rubbing at the back of his head.

“Did you just call me a fairy? Because whoa, it’s 2012 and that is _not_ ok-“ Stiles stopped talking as he was jerked back up and pulled flush against Derek. His cheeks began to heat up as Derek’s hands came to rest on his cheeks, turning his head so he could see the dancing balls of light in the tree line. He let out a nervous laugh before slapping a hand against his mouth, not wanting to alert the fairies to their presence.

“Be quiet,” Derek whispered, his mouth almost resting against his right ear. “Fairies are dangerous when angered, and tend to only deal with virgins.” Stiles’ muscles seized up as the wave of embarrassment crashed over him. So that was the reason he was in the middle of the woods hunting fairies. Virgin. The big V. Might as well get it tattooed onto his forehead.

“I need you to go over there and convince them to grant a wish for you. Do _not_ say “I wish” under any circumstances. Get them to agree, and come back over here. Give them this,” Derek opened one of Stiles’ palms and put a jar of ladybugs into his hand, “and hopefully they won’t get angry. Go” Derek pushed him forward, causing him to stumble slightly. He turned around and glared at him, only to see Derek smirking with his arms crossed against his chest.

Fucking werewolves.

Stiles sighed and held the jar in his hands as he walked over to the dancing lights. The closer he got the brighter they became, the colors shifting from white to blue to pink, rotating in some maniacal firework display. He froze as a fairy darted out and circled him, the buzz of its wings sending shivers down his back.

“A virgin,” It hissed, coming to hover in front of his face. “He has nummies!” It hissed in delight. The other fairies seemed to appreciate this, as the pitch from their wings increased for a second or two before returning to their original levels.

“Yup, that’s me. Stiles, the virgin. With nummies. Mmmm, nummies.” He crooned, his eyes darting back and forth between the fairies, as the rest came forward to circle around him.

“Remove that insufferable casing before I pluck out your eyeballs,” The first fairy hissed, lessening the glow of its light to show a tiny boy with butterfly wings. With a sword.

“What’s in it for me?” Stiles asked, his heart bouncing around his rib cage. He liked his eyes. His eyes were one of his defining features.

“Your eye sight,” The fairy sneered, leaping forward to slash at his cheek with his sword. Stiles yelped and brought his free hand up to slap into the cut. He whimpered as the fairies broke out into a hissing laughter.

“I’ll open it for a wish,” Stiles said. The fairies paused their laughter, and the boy in front of him stilled in the air and swept its violet eyes over him.

“Well, perhaps a wish,” It conceded, running its tongue over the shark like teeth in its mouth. “What would the virgin wish for?” it asked, batting its eyelashes.

“Uhm, well… give me a minute to go over-“ Stiles started,  pointing at the cluster of trees where Derek’s red eyes hovered. The fairy sneered at him.

“No! Decide now! Or do you clear everything with that over-sized beast in the trees?” The boy placed one hand on his hip, waving the sword in Stiles’ face.

“Hey! He doesn’t tell me what to do!” Stiles frowned as the fairies laughed again. He jerked a bit as a purple bubble rose around them, separating them from the rest of the forest. “What is that?”

“For privacy,” The fairy hissed, eyes glinting. It came to a rest on top of the jar of lady bugs, sheathing its sword and staring up at Stiles.

“Privacy…” Stiles stammered. He gazed over his shoulder, seeing Derek raging against the barrier. He was banging his fists against it, his teeth elongated and claws sprouting from his hands. He couldn’t hear him, though.

“Uncivilized,” another fairy sniffed, its feminine voice close to Stiles ear. He felt a pressure on his shoulder and looked to see a girl sitting crossed leg on his shoulder, her wings fanning his neck.

“Do you think he was like that as a babe?” Another asked, causing Stiles to wince as it settled on his head. He felt it playing with his hair, and it was making him increasingly uneasy.

“Oh, I can see it now…” The fairy on the jar said, grabbing his stomach as his hissing laughter erupted from his mouth. “Little angry Alpha gnawing on a tree, waiting for his nummies.”

“That would be hilarious,” Stiles agreed, laughing a little as another fairy landed on his other shoulder.

“Do you think he would make a cute babe?” The new fairy was petting his ear-lobe as it spoke.

“Probably, yeah. I mean he’s hot now, I can only imagine how cute he looked as a kid,” Stiles said, his tone wavering as his vision became slightly unfocused. The fairy on the jar jumped into the air and hovered before his eyes, lurching forward to place his hands on either side of his nose.

“Do you wish to see him as a babe?” It asked, his eyes trained on Stiles, as if he was trying to search his soul.

“W-well, uh… I don’t-“ Stiles stammered, his eyes watering as his they tried to put the fairy in focus. He felt his muscles relax, a warmth spreading over him and settling around his brain.

“Do you wish him to be a babe?” It asked again, lightly stroking his nose.

“I-in exchange f-for-“ he stammered, swaying on his feet.

“Say you wish him to be a babe, and open the nummies, and it shall be,” It whispered lovingly as it stroked his nose.

“I wish… f-for, uh, Derek… uhhmm… Derek to be a, uh-“

“Babe,” The fairy crooned, petting him still.

“Babe.” Stiles said, nodding his head as his fingers twisted the top off the jar.

“DONE!” The fairy crowed, as a flash of magic reverberated off of Stiles, crashing into the barrier and making it fall. The fairies zoomed around the jar, catching the ladybugs as they tried to escape, ripping their wings off with their hands and feasting on their heads.

“Uh…” Stiles stammered as his vision came into focus, the cold night air slapping against his skin. He looked down at his hands and then over his shoulder, looking towards where Derek had been.

He dropped the jar when he heard the cry of a kid, causing him to whirl around to rest his eyes on the struggling bump underneath Derek’s clothes. The fairies hissed as the jar bounced on the ground, but Stiles ignored them as he dropped to his knees. There, emerging from Derek’s jeans was a toddler, no older than 2. It was unmistakably Derek, and he was very, very naked. And very, very angry.

Stiles snatched him into his arms, clutching him to his chest as Derek struggled against him, growling and biting at his shirt. Stiles grabbed the leather jacket from the ground and wrapped the toddler in it, tying the arms around his waist to keep it on. He gave a startled laugh as he took in the sight.

There was Derek, Mr. Alpha himself, two years old and wearing nothing but a jacket. His green eyes were narrowed as tears fell down his face. He snarled at Stiles, trying to bite his finger as he tried to pick him up again.

“Bad Derek! No biting!” Stiles admonished, scooping Derek up into his lap. He used his hands to cover his ears as he focused on the fairies. “What the hell did you do? This isn’t what I wanted! I didn’t wish for this!”  The first fairy zipped into his eyes sight, holding the half eaten carcass of a ladybug.

“Yesss, this is your wish. You wished for the wolf to be a babe, and it is so.” The fairy took a large bite out of the bug, chomping on it as he stared at Stiles.

“You tricked me!” The fairy laughed at him pieces of bug spraying from his mouth.

“Is it permanent?!” He cried, watching the fairy back away.

“It will wear off… eventually.” And with that, the fairies disappeared, leaving nothing but the empty jar and a squirming toddle gnawing on his forearm.

“Damn,” He whispered, wincing slightly as Derek flung his head back into his chest.

“Bad word!” He screeched, twisting his body around to glare at Stiles. “Bad!” He said, thumping Stiles on the chest. Stiles stared down at him, his eyes wide. Derek growled again before launching himself at his chest, running his teeth over his t-shirt.

“Oh God,” He whimpered, staring up at the moon, the sensation of a two year old werewolf gnawing on his nipples causing his innards to shrivel. “Why me?”

 

 **I** t took Stiles three hours to drag Derek out of the woods. Actually having to pay attention was draining. Not only did he have to keep a squirming Derek in his arms he also had to make sure not to trip and squish him. On the upside, not having to go slow made things quicker.

Seeing the glint of his blue jeep was an out of body experience. Stiles let out a whimper as he stumbled over to it. The sky was pith black, nothing but the moon and stars guiding him back. Derek had fallen asleep three hours ago, and Stiles was certain in that time he had been peed on. He fished for his keys, dragging them out of his pocket and unlocking the driver’s side door.

Stiles put on the seatbelt and cradled Derek in one arm as he turned the jeep on. He flicked the headlights on and sighed as he put the jeep into drive. No child’s seat, no safety, laws be damned. It was 11PM and he was tired. Stiles still drove 15mph, because really, now would not be the time to drive into a ditch.

Pulling up to his driveway and being able to turn the jeep off was glorious. HE stumbled out of the cockpit, slamming the door shut with his butt. He hoisted Derek over his shoulder, hearing the little tyke snore. He was drooling into the side of his neck, and Stiles was torn between crying and cooing.

The walk to the front door was terrifying, almost as scary as the door swinging open as he was about to put his key in the lock. His dad stood there with his shot gun on one shoulder, his eyes narrowed at him.

“Stiles. It’s 11 at night. Where were you? Why didn’t you answer your phone?” His dad raked his eyes over his form and Stiles had to hold in a laugh as they bugged out of his father’s face. “Is that a baby?! Why is it _naked?_ ”

“Dad, it’s been a long night. Please, I need to sleep.” Stiles fell forward and clutched at his dad with his free arm, laying his head against his chest. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he mumbled. His father looked down at his son, his gaze switching between him and the snoring toddler.

“Try me,” he said, backing into the house and dragging his son in, leaning the gun against the wall before locking the door.

“Derek and I were in the woods, and he made me give nummies to the fairies in exchange for a wish, but they tricked me and turned him into a baby,” He mumbled into his dad’s shirt. John Stilinski mulled his son’s words over in his head.

“You’re right. Go get some sleep; we’ll talk in the morning.” John helped his son up the stairs, steering him into his bedroom. Stiles placed Derek on the bed and took off the jacket, scrunching his nose up at the smell of urine.

“I’ll get a washcloth, you should change your clothes and get that pathetic Spiderman shirt you keep in your underwear drawer for the kid.” John said, backing out of the room.

“His name is Derek! And it isn’t pathetic, it’s a collectible! I’ve had it since I was three! It has _sentimental value_!” Stiles whined, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it into the hamper with Derek’s jacket.

The sound of running water and his father’s eventual footsteps were a welcomed relief to Stiles. He wiped Derek down, pausing as he came to his penis.

“D-dad… uh, what do I do with _that_?” He asked, gesturing to Derek’s very uncircumcised junk. John swiped a hand over his face and sighed.

“You’re the one who wrote a paper on the history of male circumcision. Shouldn’t you know how to clean a penis with a foreskin?” His father sounded irritated. Stiles winced.

“But that was just _in theory._ I don’t-“ Stiles stuttered, waving the washcloth in the air.

“Stiles, just wipe him down and put the damn shirt on him! Go to bed!” His dad exited the room, closing the door behind him. Stiles stared down at Derek, horror on his face.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” he whined as he finished cleaning Derek. He struggled to get the shirt on him, finding it not as easy as dressing himself. Of course. The t-shirt was a few sizes too big for Derek. Stiles had been a chunky baby, and Derek was very slender and toned. It fell past his knees, barely brushing his toes.

Stiles yawned and flung the rest of his clothes at the hamper, wiping his chest quickly with the cloth before changing into a pair of boxers and a shirt. He situated Derek and himself under the covers and snuggled into him.

“Night, Sourwolf,” He yawned, closing his eyes. Feeling Derek's baby hands clutch at his shirt as he snuffled into his chest didn't make his heart clench. Not one bit.


	2. Maple Syrup and Rubber Duckies

“No, it’s the purple jar,” Stiles murmured, shoving his head further into his pillow as he turned onto his side. “Noooo,” He moaned. A loud thump from the hallway caused him to open his eyes and yawn, stretching his arms above his head and arching his back. He scratched his cheek as he tried to snuggle into his bed. It was the giggles that made him shoot upright.

“Derek?” He called, searching the bed for the wolf. Stiles’ feet hit the floor, the coldness of the morning air making his arms shiver. More giggles sounded from the hallway, causing him to tense up as he crept towards the already opened door. “Derek, where are-“ He stuck his head out into the hall and gasped.

Toilet paper. Everywhere. And there was Derek, completely wrapped in it as he threw strands of it. Everywhere.

“What the hell, Derek?!” Stiles screeched, awed by the sheer amount of chaos. Derek giggled louder as he glanced at Stiles, pointing a mummified finger at him.

“Bad word! You owe $1!” And with that, Mummywolf shot around the corner of the hallway, the only reminder of his presence the four rolls of toilet paper strewn around the hallway. Stiles dragged a hand across his face as he leaned against the door jam, knocking his head against the wood.

“This isn’t real,” He moaned as he backed into his bedroom, going straight for his phone. It was right on the nightstand where he left it.

“STILES,” His dad’s lovely voice ricocheted around the house, causing him to jump and look guiltily at the doorway. Derek must have made an appearance, and if the subtle variation in how he yelled his name was any indication he was not so pleased.

Stiles trotted out of his room and down the hall, rounding the corner and taking the stairs two at a time. Toilet paper was trailed down the stairs and into the kitchen, a nice little path of destruction from the resident pain-in-the-ass-Derek.

“Yeah, daddio?” He poked his head into the kitchen and saw Derek on his dad’s hip, using Stiles’ old Thomas the Tank Engine sippy cup, his eyes closed in bliss. Stiles wasn’t jealous, _not one bit._

“Care to explain what Derek is covered in toilet paper?” His dad’s face twitched, causing Stiles to pull a face as he came into the kitchen. If he had learned anything over the past 17 years it was that face twitching lead to loss of car privileges and much, much walking.

“Well, he woke up before me and when I finally woke up he was throwing it everywhere and…” He trailed off as his dad’s face twitched again, causing Stiles to chuckle nervously. “Kids are a lot of work, huh?” He asked shyly as he edged towards the table, noticing the pancakes for the first time. He went to reach for one but was deterred, the spatula his dad had been using suddenly slapping into his hand. “Ow!”

“Stiles, this isn’t a game. This isn’t like the time you had the bunny and let it out of its cage because it wasn’t ‘humane’ to keep an animal locked up. Do you remember what happened?” Oh, how could he forget? Two pairs of shoes and one closet door later Mr. Fluffyton had been found making a nest in his closet, having chewed his way through the hollow doors and burrowing into his Christmas sweaters.

“Dad, it isn’t like I wanted Derek to turn into a baby!” His father rolled his eyes as he placed Derek into Stiles’ old booster seat. His eyes were open now and he was staring at Stiles with a strange look in his evil little eyes.

“You say that Derek ‘turned into a baby’. Whose kid is this, Stiles? Do you have any idea how bad it’s going to look that the newly-reinstated Sheriff’s son _stole a baby_?” Stiles frowned at his dad as he piled pancakes onto his plate. Derek was making little growling noises now, staring at the food with rapture as Stiles poured syrup on them.

“It _is_ Derek, dad! We were in the woods last night, looking for fairies and we _found some_. They tricked me, the little shi-, uh… shysters, and turned Derek into a baby. I’m not joking! You remember that little conversation about Scott and Derek’s _furry little problem?_ Add it to the list of weird fantastical Harry Potter crud that you never thought could really happen.” And with that, Derek flung the sippy cup at Stiles as he struggled out of the chair to climb onto the table, crawling his way across and sitting in front of Stiles’ place and crossing his arms across his chest.

Stiles looked at Derek, and Derek looked at Stiles. Both made frowny faces. Stiles speared a piece of pancake onto his fork and gently raised it to Derek’s face, wincing as he shot forward and shoved the syrupy goodness into his mouth. His eyes were closed again as he chewed, a little purr erupting from his throat as he swallowed.

“Well, he certainly acts like Derek” His father said as he sunk into a chair, cradling a cup of coffee. “Are you _sure_ that’s Derek?” His dad stared at them both, taking in the sight of Derek slamming his hand onto the table and growling.

“More!” Derek demanded, opening his mouth and flashing his baby wolf teeth. Stiles snapped a quick photo as he raised the fork up again, smirking as Derek jolted forward again, his little mouth closing around the fork.

“Oh, it’s him alright,” He said, listening to the growls spewing from the toddler. “We can only hope this wears off soon, the fairies didn’t exactly give me a set timeline.” His dad sighed and frowned at him.

“Only you would get tricked by fairies,” He said, taking a sip from his mug before setting it down on the table and grabbing some pancakes for himself. Stiles fed Derek another bite before sneaking one of his own and frowned at his dad.

“You say that with such love for your only son,” he deadpanned, picking up the sippy cup and taking a swig from it. Derek glared at him as he did so, causing Stiles to smirk.

“It was mine first, dude. Finders keepers,” He said, feeding him another piece of pancake. The look on his face was priceless, and Stiles snapped another photo.

“At least you’ll get some hands on experience for when you have your own kids,” His father said. Derek chose this moment to fling the plate off the table, crawling forward to yank at the sippy cup dangling from Stiles’ mouth. A fight erupted, Stiles desperately trying to hold onto the cup with his teeth as Derek pulled at it, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

“Uh, should I take the day off?” the Sheriff asked, watching his son lose against Derek, who had finally tugged the cup from his mouth and was sucking on it greedily. Stiles glared, looking to the side to see the smashed plate and syrup on the floor.

“Oh, no. Derek and I are going to be _just. Fine._ ” Stiles turned to look back at the toddler, who was smirking around the sippy cup. Oh, Stiles would get to the bottom of this. He may look 2, but upstairs he must be far older. His actions were far too maniacal for a common two year old, right?

“If you’re sure…” His dad said, pushing himself out of the chair. “I’m working late today, so save me some dinner, ok? Be safe.”

“Alright, Dad. Same to you,” Stiles said, watching him leave the kitchen, feeling the constant thumps of Derek’s toes hitting his chest as he sat at the edge of the table kicking his feet out. He turned to look at Derek, smirking at him. “And you, it’s time for a bath,” Stiles held in a laugh as the sippy cup fell from his mouth and rolled off the table, Derek’s mouth widening as he took in a gasp of air.

“Noooo!” He screamed as Stiles threw him over his shoulder, trudging back up the stairs towards the bathtub. Derek was pounding at his back and biting his shoulder, causing Stiles to laugh.

“Yessss,” Stiles cooed, patting Derek on the butt. Oh, this was going to be hilarious. He turned into the bathroom and leaned over to turn on the water, making sure to put the plug in. After checking the temp Stiles knocked the rubber ducky off the shelf into the water. Derek was still struggling, trying to break free. Stiles closed the door and locked it.

“Do you want bubbles?” Stiles asked, grinning as Derek stilled.

“Fine.” Derek spat, causing Stiles to open the closet door and pull out the bubbles he kept in there for ha-has. He poured a little into the tub, watching a few bubbles spread before putting them back in the closet. He placed Derek on the floor and pulled the shirt off him, smirking as his black hair stood on end. He had troll hair, and it made him take another picture.

“You’re the cutest werewolf ever, aren’t you?” He asked, hoisting Derek into the tub. Derek growled at him before plopping onto his bottom, grabbing the ducky and squeezing it.

Stiles snapped another picture. He had a feeling that there would be a scrapbook in his future, yes indeed. He put his phone on the counter before kneeling in front of the tub, grabbing the washcloth that was hanging over the side. He plunged it into the water, getting it nice and wet for the sure-to-be amusing washing about to commence.

“Now, Derek. This is just as mortifying for me…well, no, this is worse for you. Just remember, being clean is important. Smelling like blood and animal pelts is never acceptable,” Stiles babbled as he rubbed the cloth against Derek’s back. He made sure to wash everywhere, laughing at the change in Derek’s voice when he hit the tickle spots. Once he was done cleaning him Stiles leaned against the cabinet behind him, reaching up for his phone. He took a short video of Derek splashing in the tub and playing with the duck before sending it to Scott saying, “Houston, we have a problem.”

Scott called him immediately.

“Dude, why is there a baby in your tub?” Scott asked. Stiles snorted.

“Not just any baby. That baby is Derek.” The line was silent before Scott burst into laughter.

“Good one, Stiles. Now whose kid is it?” Stiles rolled his eyes and smiled sheepishly as Derek turned his head to stare at him.

“I’m serious. We went looking for fairies last night and they tricked me into turning him into a baby-“

“Wait, on your date last night? You got him turned into a _baby?_ ” Stiles sputtered.

“What? What date? There was no date. We were on a mission, and it went-“

“Derek asked me what you would enjoy doing on a date, and I said that you always said you wanted to have a moonlit picnic, and then he-“

“WHAT?!” Stiles screamed, holding the phone a foot from his face as he locked eyes with Derek who was snarling and standing at the side of the tub.

“Stiles! Stiles!” Scott sounded from the phone, obviously regretting opening his stupid mouth. Stiles took a deep breath and brought the phone back to his ear.

“Stiles, I’m sorry! I thought you knew!” Scott apologized thirty times before Stiles spoke.

“Supposed date aside, Derek is now a baby. And he’s peeing in my bathtub,” Stiles said, watching as Derek turned around and let loose. This was unreal.

“Well, I’ll be over soon. Don’t do anything stupid!” Scott said, hanging up on him. Stiles frowned at the phone.

“As if I’m the dumb one,” He muttered, snapping a photo of Derek naked and peeing in the tub. “You’re gonna regret that one, Babywolf,” He chirped, placing his phone in his pocket. He got up and grabbed a towel from the cabinet and slung it over his shoulder. He grabbed Derek by the armpits and lifted him out of the water, pulling the drain and letting the water swirl away. He wrapped Derek in the towel and smiled as his head poked out, hair a mess. At least he was clean.

“Cold,” Derek said, narrowing his eyes at him.

“Well, get used to it because I don’t-“ Stiles trailed off as the front door slammed and feet began pounding on the stairs. He eyed the bathroom door as a body flung against it, the quiet “ow!” of Scott thumping off the door making him smile. He unlocked it, letting him open the door. He was rubbing his head, but he had a bag. A bag of clothes.

“That was quick. Are those baby clothes?” Stiles asked, peering at the shopping bag. Scott flung them at Stiles, crouching down to peer at Derek.

“Well, it definitely smells like Derek,” He said, eyes going yellow at the sight of him. Derek snarled at him, his eyes turning red.

“Whoa,” Stiles said, clutching Derek to his chest as Scott entered a staring contest. “Scott, just submit,”

“I’m not submitting to a two year old,” Scott growled, eyes never leaving Derek’s face. Derek gave a tiny roar, shifting his body closer to Scott as his little fangs protruded from his mouth.

“Oh, you’ll submit. I am not dealing with this, I have enough on my plate! Did you see what he did to the kitchen?! He’s a terror, and you will do it for me! Now DO IT!” Stiles seethed, watching as Scott closed his eyes in defeat and lowered his head. Derek let out a huff as he turned back to Stiles, snuggling into his chest.

“This is the most messed up thing ever, it’s even worse than the Kanima,” Scott mumbled as he stood up. Stiles rolled his eyes.

“You should see the bruises and fang marks on my chest,” He said, scooping Derek and the bag up, ushering Scott into his bed room. “Did you bring diapers? Are two year olds potty trained? And seriously dude, you did the wolf run again, didn’t you?” Scott rubbed the back of his head and shrugged.

“Only child here. How should I know if a two year old is potty trained?” Stiles stared at Scott, and if the look on his face was any indication so was Derek.

“That is so creepy, dude.” Scott sat on the bed, and whipped out his phone, and sent a text off. Derek glowered at him and started growling.

“Uh, Scott? Not so sure Derek is ok with you sitting on the bed. You might want to scoot,” He said nervously as Derek’s growls increased in volume, causing his arms to shake. Scott sighed and slipped off the bed, sitting cross legged on the floor. Derek made grabby hands for the mattress, so Stiles put him down and pulled out his phone. He had a feeling.

He was right. He filmed Derek as he rolled around the bed, mashing his body into the sheets.

“Scott, I think I’m in over my head. We need to get the pack here.” Derek stopped mid-roll and looked up at him.

“No!” He said, eyes flashing red. Stiles gulped.

“Right, no pack. Pack bad,” Stiles said, watching as Derek resumed his rolling. “Are we really taking orders from a two year old?”

“Yes,” Derek chirped, standing up and holding out his hands. “Cold!”

Stiles sighed and opened up the bag, dragging out the clothes Scott brought over.

“Alright mister, are you going to tell me when you need to use the potty?” Scott snorted, sending another text off. Derek frowned at him, his arms still held out.

“Yes,” He conceded, and with that Stiles dragged the shirt over his head, smirking as Derek struggled to pop his head out of the shirt hole. Stiles dragged the underwear up his legs and smiled at Derek sweetly.

“Your undies match your sippy cup,” He said, pulling the jeans on to Derek and zipping up the fly, buttoning them just as Derek whacked him in the face. Stiles jerked and pushed Derek, watching him flop back onto the bed. Derek laid there, hands clenching as he kept his back straight. Scott stopped texting, turning around and peering onto the bed.

“You didn’t.” Scott whispered, eyes level with the mattress. Stiles closed his eyes.

“He was getting uppity and-“ Stiles trailed off as Derek let out a shriek. Derek lifted his hands and began banging them into the mattress, legs kicking as he cried. “Ah, shit!”

“Baaaadd wooorrdd” Derek cried flinging himself onto his stomach as he cried, legs kicking into the air.

“Scott, do something!” Stiles screamed, which made Derek cry more.

“Dude, this is your mess. I’m going to watch TV” Scott said, leaving the room and making sure to shut the door.

“You could at least clean up the broken plate in the kitchen!” Stiles called after him, rubbing a hand against his head before turning back to Derek. He sighed and sat next to him on the bed, placing a hand on his back before rubbing circles into it. Derek stopped crying, pushing himself up and holding onto Stiles shoulder as he sniffled.

He looked adorable, tears trailing down his cheeks with red eyes and a balled fist rubbing his face.

“I’m sorry, buddy,” Stiles said, drawing Derek into a hug and patting his back. Derek shoved his head into the crook of Stiles’ neck, wiping his face on his skin. “Manners matter, I guess,” Stiles said, squeezing his arms around him.

Stiles tried not to wince as Derek began biting his skin. He was marking him, and ever since Scott opened his big mouth he didn’t know if he should let it continue or not. Maybe he was just doing it for comfort, maybe all baby werewolves did that. He certainly didn’t know, and he didn’t want to be the jerk that made Derek resist his basic instincts. Stiles got Derek off him so he could change into a new t-shirt and some jeans.

Stiles fished his cell out of his pocket and dialed Scott’s number, waiting as it rang. He rolled his eyes as he answered, the questioning ‘Hello?’ irking him.

“Can you go to the store for me? I need some things and I’m wary about bringing Babywolf out into public.” Stiles grabbed Derek and exited the bedroom, making sure to grab his wallet on his way out. He walked down the hall and came to the stair case, making sure to take each step carefully as he made his way down to the living room. Derek was on his hip, poking him with one baby finger. As he rounded the corner into the living room Stiles shut off his phone and stuffed it into his pocket. Scott was laying on the couch watching SpongeBob, the phone laying against his ear.

“Sure thing, but you have to give me money.”  His eyes were glazed over as Patrick and SpongeBob fought over Gary. Stiles snorted.

“Here’s $40, I’ll text you what I need.” Stiles handed him the money (more like dropped it on top of his chest, seeing as how he was engrossed in the TV). Stiles walked over to the door and took the jeep keys off the hook and flung them at Scott, still in awe over his reflexes as he sat up and caught them.

“I get to take the jeep?” He asked, holding the keys in his hand like they were precious gems. Which they were, really.

“Yeah, unless you plan on carrying the bags in your mouth as you run back here.” Stiles went over to the couch and flopped down, nudging Scott over and putting Derek in his lap so he was resting against his stomach. “Hurry please.” Scott jumped up, grabbed the bills, and swaggered over to the door.

“Don’t worry, hunny, I’ll be back in time for dinner.” Scott snarked as he left. Stiles rolled his eyes and texted him a list of groceries, one hand on Derek’s stomach. The kid liked SpongeBob if the giggles were anything to go by.

Derek clapped his hands and squealed as Stiles flopped over into a laying position. He snuggled up to him, letting the obnoxious sounds of the TV lull him to sleep.

 

Scott found him like that an hour later, Stiles and Derek both snoring lightly on the couch.


	3. Revenge and Cream Cheese

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If things go according to plan there will be two or three more chapters!

Something was poking him in the cheek. Repeatedly, and roughly. Stiles groaned, scrubbing a hand across his face as he sat up. He opened his eyes to see Derek hopping from one foot to another, one hand on the crotch of his pants and the other flapping at Stiles.

“Potty!” He yelled, slapping Stiles’ thigh with his palm. If it were possible for his eyes to shoot out of his skull they would have.

“Potty!” Stiles yelled, jumping off the couch and grabbing Derek, running down the hall to the bathroom.

“Hurry!” Derek wailed, accidently smacking his forehead into Stiles’ chin as he took a flying leap over a laundry basket. Whoever put that there deserved a horrid death.

“Don’t pee on me!” Stiles flung the bathroom door open, dropping to his knees in front of the toilet and quickly undoing Derek’s pants. He yanked down his clothes and plopped him on top of the toilet, holding him steady.

“I’m gonna fall!” Derek exclaimed, trying to aim into the toilet. Stiles closed his eyes and held him steady.

“Add this to the list of things I never thought I’d have to do for you,” Stiles mumbled. A chuckle floated into the room, causing him to turn his head in horror as his eyes landed on Scott. The flash of the camera blinded him, causing him to let go of Derek. The toddler yelped as he sank into the toilet, spraying Stiles in the face with pee.

Scott howled with laughter, the flash of the camera going off multiple times as Stiles fished a screaming Derek out of the toilet, thrusting him into the shower and blindly grabbing for a towel. In desperation Stiles fumbled through the cabinet and grabbed the first cloth item he could. After wiping his face on the bathmat Stiles spit into the tub, watching as Derek tried to roar at him.

“You should see yourselves!” Scott hiccupped, holding his side as he held up his phone. Stiles smiled at him, eyes never leaving his face. Derek was pouting in the shower, crouched down and snarling at everything.

“You’re dead,” Stiles said, launching himself across the bathroom and head butting Scott in the stomach, effectively tackling him to the floor. He felt satisfied as he heard the thump of Scott’s head hitting the ground.

“Come on, that was amazing,” Scott said, grinning at Stiles from the floor.

“You are an awful friend,” Stiles pushed up off him and went back into the bathroom, slamming the door shut before taking his shirt off. He glared at Derek who returned the favor in kind.

“When this is over you’re dead, too.” He snarled, shucking off his pants and advancing on the toddler. Stiles pulled off Derek’s shirt, letting it land with a slap onto the floor as he reached over and turned on the shower. Derek’s eyes were wide as Stiles stepped in, shutting the curtain as the water hit him in the face.

“You peed on me, _again._ Again, Derek!” Stiles picked up the soap and lathered his hands before scrubbing at his face, trying to remove every trace of urine.

“You peed in my _mouth_.” Stiles let the water wash away the soap, watching as it traveled down his stomach to soak into his boxers.

“I told you!” Derek scowled, stomping his foot as he looked up at him.

“I wouldn’t have dropped you if Scott hadn’t blinded me with that damn flash!” Stiles squatted down and began to wash Derek off, bringing himself eye level to him.

“He’s in trouble,” Derek pouted, scrubbing at his head as his hair flattened to his face. Stiles smirked as he rinsed him off.

“Oh, he is. What should we do to him, Derek?” Stiles turned off the water, shaking his head a bit. Derek did the same with a giggle, leaving one of his hands on Stiles’ leg for leverage.

“He dies!” Derek snarled suddenly, his eyes flashing red and hand gripping the fabric of his boxers. Stiles jerked as Derek’s claws dug into his leg, looking down at him with a shocked expression.

“That’s a little harsh, bud. Maybe stick to something that won’t involve paramedics.” Stiles opened the shower curtain and stepped out, grabbing a couple towels. He turned back to Derek, whose eyes were still red, and toweled him off. Stiles did the same to himself and then wrapped the towel around his waist, doing the same for Derek.

“We pee on him,” Derek said, standing straight with fluffy hair and red eyes. Stiles snickered.

“We could do that. Wait for my signal,” Stiles picked Derek up and opened the bathroom door, nearly walking into Scott as he stood there sheepishly.

“I’m sorry, dude. Please don’t pee on me,” He said, backing away slightly as Derek let out a growl.

“You won’t know when, Scott, but it will happen. The Alpha has decided.” Stiles deadpanned, holding in a grin as Derek nodded.

“You can’t be serious!” Scott sputtered, moving to the side so Stiles could make his way to the staircase. He was silent as he took each step, letting Derek turn around so he could glare at Scott.

“Stupid,” Derek huffed, red eyes locked onto Scott’s, a look of terror marring his uneven face.

“Fuck,” Scott said, watching the red glow disappear around the corner.

 

-

 Scott sat at the bottom of the stairs, head resting in his palms waiting for Stiles and Derek to reappear. Stiles feet were loud on the stairs, but Scott didn’t turn. He was desperately trying to be submissive, trying to keep the duo from following through on their threat. Stiles breezed past him, dressed in jeans and a graphic-t with a wolf’s head on it. His converse were on his feet, and he was holding an equally clothed Derek. Scott followed them down the hall, wincing as Derek’s eyes latched onto his face.

Derek was scary as an adult; as a child he was terrifying. Scott fell into step behind them, following them out the back door into the yard. Stiles was angling towards the tree swing the Sheriff had put up when they were kids. Stiles knelt to the ground and deposited Derek onto his feet, turning his head slightly to glance at Scott.

“You’re pushing,” Stiles said, jerking his head towards the swing. Derek was holding onto the tire, desperately trying to climb up it without falling off. Scott nodded vigorously, jogging over to the tree and helping Derek to stand on the tire.

“I can do that,” Scott steadied him on the swing, pushing Derek lightly. Stiles stood in front of the swing and took some pictures, making sure to focus in on Derek’s laughing face.

Sometimes he wondered if he was like this as a child; domineering, forceful, and oddly easy to please. A part of him thought it had to do with the whole 20-something-trapped-in-the-body-of-a-two-year-old thing. An Alpha, as well. He let out a chuckle before making a funny face at Derek, watching as his green eyes lit up at the attention.

He was a two year old trouble maker, but he was cute. And more importantly, _his._ He moved forward, stopping a few feet away from the swing so he could push back when Derek came forward. It was like a twisted version of monkey in the middle, Derek swinging back and forth between Scott and himself, laughing hysterically as he clutched at the rope.

The sun beat down on the back of their necks as they played, laughing at Derek’s youthful enthusiasm. Scott went still, his eyes locking onto something over Stiles’ shoulder. Derek slammed into Scott, knocking him onto the ground and growling as he fell on top of him, the tire swing swaying back and forth.

“Derek, now!” Stiles shouted, clutching his side as Derek stood and opened his pants to let a stream of urine fly. Scott gagged and rolled onto his hands and knees, making sure to crawl away from the puddle that had formed underneath him.

Stiles heard Lydia’s laughter before he saw her. She looked amazing in her cut off shorts and tank top, her hair piled in a bun on top of her head. She was clutching at a camera as she came forward, coming to a stop next to Stiles.

“Scott told me about Derek. I couldn’t resist,” She said, shrugging her shoulders and pointing the camera at them as Derek chased Scott around the yard, growling and trying to pounce on the older boy.

“Please tell me that’s on the video setting,” Stiles turned to look at her and fist pumped the air when she grinned. “We need to make a copy of that ASAP!”

“Why did Derek pee on him?” Lydia asked, making sure to film Derek as he jumped and body slammed Scott’s head.

“Long story, he had it coming.” Stiles grinned as Derek stood up and stared down at the older boy.

“Submit!” Derek screamed, face going red as he clenched his hands to his sides. Scott looked up at him and shook his head.

“You’re two! No way am I submitting to a _baby,_ ” Scott gasped as Derek snarled and kicked him in the ribcage. For a kid Derek seemed to be causing some damage.

“Submit!” Derek roared. Stiles locked eyes with Lydia, moving forward as she nodded at him. He jogged over to the duo, scooping Derek up and throwing him over his shoulder.

“Sorry dude,” Stiles said with a wince, looking at Scott’s wet and dirty clothes. “He’s the Alpha.” Stiles gave Derek’s butt a quick slap, ignoring his howl at the contact. “You should go home and change.”

“Traitor!” Scott whined, watching Derek’s red eyes drill into him as he was carried away. The toddler was smirking at Scott, rubbing one hand on Stiles’ back before snapping his jaws at him. Stiles turned around at Scott’s ‘ _meep!’_

“You ok dude?” Stiles and Lydia both arched an eyebrow at him as he dragged himself to his feet.

“I’m fine! All good! Leaving!” And with that Scott ran off, hurling himself over the trash can and speeding away like the dogs of hell were on his heels.

“What an odd little man,” Lydia drawled, carelessly snapping a photo of Stiles with Derek over his shoulder.

“He’s special. Did you know that when we were four he used to eat glue? He used to eat it right off the stick in kindergarten.” Lydia linked her arm with his as she dragged him around the side of the house towards her car.

“That doesn’t surprise me at all.” She quipped, leading the boys to the backseat. “You sit here next to Derek to make sure he doesn’t die. I’ll drive.” She held open the door for them and gestured for them to get in.

“I don’t have my wallet or keys…” Stiles trailed off as Lydia pulled them out of her purse.

“I made a pit stop. Get in,” She lowered herself into the driver’s seat and started the car as Stiles buckled Derek in. Derek was petting the fabric of the back seat, wrinkling his nose as he looked up at Stiles. Lydia pulled out of the driveway and set off towards town.

“Stiles!” Derek glared at him, nose still scrunched. He looked adorable, which was probably why Lydia was holding her phone up and snapping pictures of him as she drove.

“Yes, Alpha?” Stiles leaned over to Derek, placing his face inches from the toddlers. This entire situation was becoming his number one source of amusement. Would consistently calling Derek the Alpha give him an even bigger complex when he grew up?

“Hungry.” Derek huffed, his breath washing over Stiles’ face. Stiles jerked back.

“Dude, we need to get him a toothbrush! That is not ok!” Stiles gagged, wiping his eyes as he opened the window to get fresh air.

“Stiles!” Derek was thumping his feet into the seat, growling at his disobedience.

“I’m sorry, sir, but that was rank.” Stiles shut the window and smiled at Derek, bringing his hand to the toddler’s head and ruffling his hair. Derek settled back into a pout, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Both of you need to stop, otherwise I’m dragging you to the GAP and buying _both of you_ new wardrobes. In varying sizes,” Lydia’s eyes glinted in the rear view mirror, causing Stiles to gulp.

“FOOD!” Derek screamed at her, leaning as far forward as the seatbelt would allow.

“Don’t yell at me, buster! You might be small and adorable, and you might be a werewolf, but that does not mean you’re immune to being spanked!” Lydia slammed on the breaks before swerving into the entrance to the mall parking lot.

“Stiles!” Derek looked at him expectantly. Stiles shrugged at him.

“She’s right, you need to control yourself. There will be humans here. Not in the know humans. So no wolfyness, got it?” Derek flashed little baby fangs at him as the car pulled into a parking spot.

“Do you understand?” Lydia peered at him through the mirror, making sure he nodded at her words. “Good, let’s go get a _bagel_.” Lydia sniffed as she unlocked the doors and got out, making Stiles laugh as he unbuckled himself and Derek.

“Bagel?” Derek asked, eyes scrunched up as Stiles settled him on his hip. He had to know what a bagel was, right?

“Bagel. A round doughy substance usually sliced in half and then toasted before being smothered in cream cheese. Have you heard of it?” Derek shook his head slowly as he stared at Stiles.

“Hurry up!” Lydia called, already at the mall entrance. Stiles picked up the pace and rubbed a hand against Derek’s leg.

“Well Babywolf, you’re in for a treat.”

15 minutes later they were sitting at a table, Derek on Stiles’ lap, his face covered with cream cheese as he happily munched on a cinnamon raisin bagel.

Lydia’s phone chirped happily as she took another picture, immortalizing Derek’s tongue snaking through the bagel hole, Stiles face lit up as he laughed.

“That is so not right,” Jackson sighed, slipping into the chair next to Lydia, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. Derek licked his fingers as he stared down Jackson.

“You’re late.” Lydia said, pushing her barely eaten bagel towards Jackson. He picked it up and smirked at her.

“I was on the phone with Scott. Seems someone had a run in with a raging beast, I wonder who that was?” Jackson took a bite from the bagel, eyes landing on Derek who smirked at him.

“I’m the Alpha” Derek stated, tearing another piece of bagel off with his fangs.

“You’re in public,” Stiles hissed, taking the bagel away and cutting it into pieces.

“So?” Derek eyed the bagel warily as cream cheese squished out of the sides. Jackson chewed obnoxiously as Lydia sighed.

“So, we wouldn’t want anyone to question why you have red eyes or fangs when Halloween isn’t until October. Don’t make me take you home before I get to hit Sephora.” Lydia glanced down at Derek, who ducked his head as his ears turned red.

“Well, looks like somebody has an apology to make,” Stiles teaches, popping a piece of Derek’s bagel into his mouth. Derek sighed dramatically, the cream cheese on his nose wobbling slightly.

“I’m sorry.” Derek said, looking at Lydia with earnest eyes. She smiled.

“Thank you for apologizing,” Lydia said, turning herself to face Jackson. “Please tell me you were recording that,” Derek’s head swiveled so fast that Stiles was afraid it might pop off. Sure enough, Jackson was holding up his phone.

“Yup,” He said, taking another bite from the bagel. Derek would have yelled if not for the piece of food that Stiles stuck into his mouth.

“Just think how amusing this will be for us when you’re big again,” Stiles cooed, rubbing Derek’s stomach as he wiped the cream cheese off his face.

“Alright, let’s get this over with.” Jackson sighed, pushing himself up from the table and holding his hand out to Lydia. They cleared the trash from the table and Stiles deposited Derek back onto his hip. Derek was making sure to glower at all of them.

 

-

 Four hours later Stiles was the proud owner of 7 new shirts, 4 new pairs of pants, three pairs of shoes, 5 sweaters, and some new cologne all courtesy of Lydia’s credit card. Derek didn’t fare much better, having an interesting selection of clothing for when he returned to normal size, as well as a few outfits for his current figure.

The ride home was quiet, seeing as how Derek was slurping on a popsicle and Stiles felt like he was about to pass out. Girls, how do girls do it? The shopping. The _shopping_ was ridiculous.

“Thank you Lydia,” Stiles said for the hundredth time. Lydia smiled as she pulled into his drive way, turning back to look at him.

“If I ever see those plaid button ups again I’ll ruin you. Have a nice day!” Stiles gaped as she unlocked the doors.

“I like plaid!” Lydia rolled her eyes.

“Plaid doesn’t like you.” With that she popped the trunk, smiling as Derek giggled at Stiles. “Hurry up, I’ve got to get to yoga class.”

Stiles unbuckled himself and grabbed Derek, exiting the car and taking the bags out from the trunk and setting them on the lawn. He closed it, backing away as Lydia reversed out of the driveway.

“Say ‘bye!’” Stiles waved at Lydia.

“Bye!” Derek called, waving his popsicle at her. Lydia smiled and saluted them, driving off towards town again. Stiles groaned as Derek accidently slapped the popsicle into his face.

“Was that necessary?” Stiles grumbled, grabbing some bags and trudging up the steps. He unlocked the door and threw the bags in, going back to the lawn to grab the others.

“Mmm,” Derek moaned, sucking on the popsicle. Stiles twitched as he grabbed the last of the bags and went into the house.

“That’s obscene,” Stiles said, placing Derek onto the floor and throwing the bags with the others. Derek trotted off towards the living room as Stiles shut the front door. He turned back and watched Derek climb onto the couch, popsicle clutched in one sticky hand. He turned to look at Stiles and patted the cushion next to him as he shoved the popsicle back in his mouth.

“As you command, Alpha,” Stiles monotoned, zombie walking into the room. He collapsed down onto the couch and draped an arm around Derek.

“Sponge!” Derek commanded, waving his stick at TV. His Popsicle was gone, and his face had a slight orange tint to it. Stiles sighed and turned on the TV, cursing the Gods for the never ending day time SpongeBob marathon. Derek wiggled his body as the show started, singing along to the theme song and fumbling over the new words.

In his mind, hearing Derek say ‘Who lives in a pineapple under the sea?’ made the entire mall trip worth it. Anything to rationalize the terror of being forced into designer clothing by Lydia Martin.

Anything.


	4. Kung-Fu and Stick Figures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, I've been sick and hallucinating really weird things!

Derek twitched as “Papa, Can You Hear Me?” blared from Stiles’ phone, causing the older boy to snicker as he fished it out of his pocket. Getting in between Derek and SpongeBob was a colossal mistake, and judging from how the tips of his ears were reddening Stiles had very little time to cut off the music.

“What up, Daddio?” Derek let out a warning growl, causing Stiles to jump up and head toward the kitchen.

“Get out of the way!” Derek yelled, eyes bulging as Stiles walked in front of the TV. He made sure to hop out of the way, smiling to himself as he entered the kitchen.

“I’m bringing home dinner tonight so don’t cook anything. How’s Derek?” His dad’s voice was paired with the steady taping of a keyboard. Another lunch coupled with paperwork, the exciting life of a small town Sheriff never dulls.

“Derek’s fine; he’s obsessed with SpongeBob. Whatever you bring home better not have red meat or fried components.” Stiles leaned against the counter, crossing his ankles and resting his head against the cabinet.

“You wound me, Stiles. I was thinking I’d hit the Italian place around the corner and get some subs. What do the two of you want?” _Tap, tap, tap._ He could never get over his dad’s multitasking skills. It was something he had always envied, and it was also something he knew would probably never come easily to him.

“I want a turkey club with all those wonderful green and red vegetables smothered in mayo. Hold on, let me ask Derek what he wants.” Stiles poked his head around the door and smiled as he saw Derek kneeling in front of the TV, his hands bracing the plastic sides and his nose inches from the screen.

“Derek, what kind of sandwiches do you like?” Derek huffed a breath against the glass as Sandy and SpongeBob began doing karate.

“Derek?” Derek licked the television screen, making Stiles’ eyebrows shoot up into his hairline. He quickly made his way over to the toddler and crouched down next to him. He brought his face to his ear and tried to hold back a smirk.

“WHAT KIND OF SANDWICHES DO YOU LIKE?” Stiles hollered in his ear, causing Derek to jerk his head back and swivel his body to face him. He scrunched his face up and narrowed his eyes, his little mouth pulling back to expose his fangs.

“Sponge! I’m watching Sponge! What do you want?!” Derek snarled, pushing off from the ground to stand in front of Stiles, arms crossed over his chest.

“What kind of sandwich do you want from the pizza place?” Stiles rolled his eyes at the kid, inwardly laughing at his zombie-like behavior.

“Ham, turkey, roast beef, chicken, bacon, salami, and cheese.” Derek ticked each meat off on his fingers as he spoke their names. Stiles’ couldn’t help it, he just had to laugh.

“Is that all? No lettuce or tomatoes? How about mayo?” He chuckled as Derek stomped his foot and took a swipe at his leg with his little hand.

“NO! Pickles and mustard. I like it crunchy.” And with that, he turned back to the TV and plopped right down onto the floor, crossing his legs and leaning his head against his hands. Stiles blinked before slowly backing away and turning back into the kitchen. He put the phone back to his ear and frowned at his dad’s hysterical laughter.

“Did you get that?” Stiles grumbled, flopping down into one of the kitchen chairs. His dad sounded like he was about to bust a gut.

“He’s just like you were as a kid! I thought I’d have to wait for grandkids for you to get a taste of your own medicine but it seems like fate had other plans in mind! He wants a lot of meat with pickles, mustard, and cheese. In the oven. Got it.” Stiles rolled his eyes and glanced back into the living room, watching Derek as the light from the TV causes his eyes to flash continuously in some weird seizure inducing light show.

“I want fries, too. Curly fries.” Stiles said, turning away from Derek and throwing his head back to gaze at the ceiling.

“If I can’t have fries neither can you.” His dad sounded smug.

“Daaad!”

“Rules are rules. Feel like changing your mind?” His dad was laughing again. He hated it when his dad laughed at him.

“Whatever! Have fun doing your paperwork, Sheriff.” Stiles snarked, pushing himself out of the chair.

“So two orders of fries it will be. See you lat+er, kiddo.” The phone line went dead before he could respond. His dad _would_ hang up before he could say no. Then again, he really wanted those fries. He turned around and jumped back, his heart practically jumping out of his chest at the sight of Derek standing in the doorway.

“W-what’s up, little dude?” Stiles placed a hand on his heart, feeling it beat wildly in his ribcage. Even mini-Derek was practiced in the art of werewolf ninja skills.

“Sponge is over.” Derek monotoned, inching forward with glazed eyes. Stiles frowned at his vacant expression, crouching down to bring himself eye level.

“Did you enjoy the episode?” Stiles asked, bewildered at Derek’s current state. Derek nodded, eyes staring at Stiles’ chest, his mouth slightly parted.

“Are you ok?” Stiles reached a hand out towards Derek, fingers twitching as they came into contact with his cheek. His skin was flushed and slightly warm. Could werewolves even get sick?

Stiles was not expecting the karate chop to his forearm, nor was he expecting the howl that erupted from Derek’s mouth as he dropped into a fighting stance. His hands were in prime karate form, and Stiles stumbled backwards into the table as Derek sprung forward.

You would think a kid wouldn’t be able to hurt a teenager with his bare hands. You’d be wrong to entertain such ideas.

“HII-YAH!” Derek screamed, chopping a hand into Stiles’ left nipple before shoving his feet into his chest and back flipping off him onto the ground.

“You want to fight, little man?! Alright, we can do this!” Stiles sent a karate chop towards Derek, catching him in the shoulder and causing him to stumble backwards. “I’ve seen the 3 Ninjas and the Karate Kid over 100 times! TumTum ain’t got nothin’ on me!” Stiles dodged Derek and rolled into the living room, making sure to get on his feet and prepare for a frontal assault.

“Evil! Evilll!” Derek chanted, running from the kitchen and jumping onto Stiles. He made sure to close his arms around the younger boy as they tumbled to the ground, Derek thrashing and struggling to get his arms free.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. I am not going to be the Barnacle Boy to your Mermaid Man. Hell no. Stop struggling!” Stiles clenched his teeth as Derek growled, his eyes flashing red.

“There’s evil afoot,” Derek snarled, flinging his head forward to catch Stiles’ T-shirt in between his teeth. He pulled back on it and shook his head like a dog, growling as he pulled Stiles down on top of him even more.

“This is ridiculous! What the hell is TV teaching kids now-a-days? When _I_ was younger we had quality programming that didn’t brainwash children. Stop!” Stiles howled as Derek’s teeth nipped his throat, forcing a bruise to the surface of his skin.

“You just _bit me_!” Stiles angled his head and took Derek’s left ear into his mouth and bit him back, causing him to snarl. “How’s it feel?” Stiles taunted, releasing the ear from his mouth. Stiles’ jerked as Derek got a few inches of flesh into his mouth and clamped down, causing Stiles’ to release his arms and grab Derek’s head.

“ _Fuck!_ ” Stiles gasped, holding Derek’s nose closed hoping that he would release his shoulder. Derek was growling nonstop and now karate chopping his torso with reckless abandon. Eventually he let go of his skin so he could breath, giving Stiles enough time to pick him up and turn him upside down. Stiles held onto Derek’s legs and held his body out in the air with a look of satisfaction on his face.

“I’m bigger then you, and while you might have the cute growly thing going on I can still hold you up by your ankles. Now, are you going to snap out of it?” Stiles quirked an eyebrow at Derek, watching as the blood rushed to his head. He was scowling and brooding just like he used to.

“Put me down!” Derek growled. Stiles laughed.

“Not until you promise to behave.” Derek snarled and twisted his body, flailing his arms in circles trying to escape.

“Fine! I promise.” Stiles walked over to the couch and dropped Derek on it, watching as his body bounced until he lay still on the cushions, gloomily staring at the ceiling.

“You’re still a strong, intelligent, and somewhat constipated Alpha. You’re my Alpha, though sometimes I wonder why I put up with you. You’re adorable, don’t get me wrong. But I will not submit to you. We can either work together or not at all. Capisce?” Stiles looked at the little body with his arms folded and wondered how Derek’s mother survived raising him. He was just too cute and cuddly looking.

“Fine,” Derek growled, rolling off the couch and coming to a stop in front of Stiles.

Stiles nodded and held out his hand, shocked when Derek held both his out in return. Someone wanted to be carried. He bent down and picked him up, cuddling up to him and squeezing him tight.

“Who’s a cute little Werewolf,” Stiles cooed at him, rubbing one hand on his back as he began walking towards the stairs. “So cuddly and adorable. CuddleWolf, that’s who you are.” He could feel Derek breathing on his neck, the puffs of air hitting his skin in even measure.

“I want to color,” Derek mumbled. Stiles grinned in anticipation, his legs carrying them up the stairs toward his room.

“I thought you’d never ask,” He chirped, coming to a stop at his door. He nudged it open with his foot and went over to his bookcase, making sure to pull out the Batman and X-Men coloring books he bought at the flea market last year. To say that Stiles was a dork would be putting it lightly. He threw them on the ground and opened a cabinet drawer to fish out his crayons and colored pencils, grabbing them and some loose sheets of paper before lowering himself to the ground. Derek slid off his body and laid on the ground, his little feet kicking the air as he surveyed both coloring books.

“Do you want Batman or the X-Men?” Stiles asked, opening the boxes of the crayons and pencils after placing the blank paper on the ground. Derek looked to be deep in thought. He had a look that Stiles knew all too well. How could one choose between the two? It was difficult, and Stiles sent a silent prayer that Derek would choose X-Men. He did, and as he opened the book to a picture of Wolverine Stiles had to grin.

“A wise choice,” Stiles said, opening the Batman coloring book to the midway point. So maybe Stiles had colored the first half of the book in, so what? Coloring books were meant to be colored in!

“You’re funny,” Derek said, stabbing his yellow colored pencil into Wolverine’s forehead. Stiles dropped his hand onto Derek’s fluffy head and ruffled his hair, causing a growl and narrowed eyes to turn on him.

“Don’t be such a downer, man. I’m funny, and you’re adorable. We’re like Lucy and Ricky, and _I’m_ the Lucy.” Derek’s eyes widened and then he giggled, turning back to his page as he dragged a jagged line down Wolverine’s body. The kid certainly had some issues to work out.

“Lucy is dumb. Ricky is the Alpha.” Derek lazily turned the book sideways, squinting down at his picture before selecting the black colored pencil. Stiles stilled, his red crayon unmoving on the picture of Robin he had been coloring in.

“Lucy is the fun one, Derek. Lucy has the best jokes, Lucy has more fun. That’s why it’s called ‘I Love Lucy’ and not ‘I Love Ricky’.” Stiles went back to coloring in Robin’s chest, wondering what planet Derek had grown up on. Who would prefer Ricky over Lucy? Lucy was an icon, she was a trail blazer. She was a red-headed Goddess.

“Lucy got yelled at a lot, and Ricky didn’t.” Derek had switched to a red colored pencil, idly drawing splotches of what appeared to be blood over everyone’s favorite Canadian.

“Ricky underestimated Lucy!” If he said that a little louder then he meant to it was an accident, of course. After all, it was a TV show they were argu-… no, discussing. He refused to argue with a mini-sized frown machine.

“Lucy was a whiner, and that’s why she always got in trouble,” Derek tore his page out of the coloring book and threw it onto the ground, opening the book to a group shot of the original X-Men.

“Why is it that sometimes you barely talk at all and then sometimes you come out with stuff like that?! What is this?” Stiles pushed himself up off the ground and began to walk to the door, angling for the bathroom. “I’ll be back, I’ve got to release the floodgates. _Don’t_ leave the room, and _don’t_ break anything. Or hurt yourself. Or die. Actually, just stay perfectly still until I get back.” Stiles walked out of the room and into the bathroom coming to a stop in front of the toilet, thoughts churning in his head.

Why should Ricky get to stomp around like a giant while Lucy tries not to get smushed under his big feet? What's so great about Ricky, hm? Lucy is just as cute as Ricky. OK, Lucy is just as smart as Ricky. People totally like Lucy just as much as they like Ricky. And when did it become OK for one person to be the boss of everybody, huh? Because that's not what family is about! Lucy should totally just stab Ricky!

He paused mid stream, silently wondering when he became Gretchen Weiners. He resumed his business, flushing away his shame and washing his hands in scalding hot water. Derek was doing his head in, making him crazy. He needed to grow up, and it needed to be soon.

Stiles made sure to close the door behind him as he left, making his way back to his bedroom. He found Derek hunched over a piece of loose paper, his shoulders tight and his back turned to him.

“What are you drawing?” Stiles asked, coming to a standstill a few feet away from him. Derek jumped up and held the piece of paper to his chest, turning to look shyly at him. He quirked an eyebrow as he looked down at him, cursing the Gods for making Derek Hale cute pre- and post puberty.

“It’s for you,” Derek said, holding the paper out to him and lowering his eyes to the ground. His interest was definitely peaked. Would it be full of blood, or werewolves, or SpongeBob? Would it even be recognizable?

“Thank you,” Stiles said, his mouth stretching into a smile as he took the picture. He turned it over, his eyes widening as they raked over the drawing. It was good all things considered. There were some very neatly drawn stick figures, each with different colored hair and in varying heights.  Derek tugged on his pant leg and gestured for him to sit. Stiles obeyed silently, sinking down to the ground and crossing his legs.

He wasn’t prepared for Derek climbing into his lap, or taking the picture and pointing at the stick figure on the far left. Stiles wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close, tucking Derek’s head under his chin.

“That’s Erica,” Derek said, his finger stabbing at the wild curly blonde hair. Stiles smirked, noticing the large melons on Erica’s torso. “That’s Boyd, and that’s Isaac,” Derek pointed to his other pack mates, Boyd with his arm around Erica and Isaac with a mop of short curls on his head. Derek moved his hand to the far right of the picture and pointed at another girl.

“That’s Allison, and that’s Scott,” Stiles had to hold in his laughter at Scott’s stick figure. Derek had captured his jaw line perfectly. Derek’s little finger moved to the next girl, who had red hair. “That’s Lydia, and that’s Jackson.” Derek turned his body and looked up at him, waiting expectantly.

“You did a great job capturing their personalities, buddy.” Stiles smiled down at him, watching Derek’s lips turn into a full faced smile.

“I dream about them,” He said seriously, his eyes flicking back and forth between his own.

“That’s because they’re your pack,” Stiles said simply. Derek’s eyes took on a strange glint, as if he was waiting for someone to confirm something he already knew. Stiles gestured to the two people in the middle, the only ones left.

“Who are those two?” The last two stick figures were in the middle of the page, holding each other’s hand. Derek rolled his eyes and turned back to the drawing.

“That’s me, the Alpha. I have red eyes.” His own stick figure was adult sized with red eyes. Stiles smirked. Then Derek’s finger moved to the other figure. “And that’s you.” Derek had taken great efforts to put moles on his face.

“Why are we holding hands?” Derek twisted to look at him again, his eyebrows drawn together.

“Because mates hold hands,” He said, looking at Stiles like he was the biggest dumbass in the world. Which, in turn, caused him to stop breathing. Or maybe it was the revelation they were mates, he couldn’t really decide.

“Mates?” Stiles whispered, watching in a daze as Derek nodded and clapped his hands.

“Mates!” He said happily, smoothing out the picture. Derek climbed off him and stood up, looking around the room. He walked over to Stiles’ desk and climbed on the chair, grabbing the tape that was next to his collection of pens. Stiles just stared as Derek climbed on top of the desk and taped the picture to the wall.

And he thought finding out Scott was a werewolf was the most confusing day of his life.

Really, he should have known Derek could top that.

“Stiles!” He broke out of his trance to look at the desk, seeing Derek trying to get his foot back onto the rolling chair. “I can’t get down!”

“Coming, buddy.” Stiles got up and went to retrieve him, grabbing him around the waist and putting him back onto his hip. He gazed at the photo again, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“What?” Derek asked, looking up at him. Stiles looked down and shook his head.

“Nothing, bud. Just in awe of your picture. Come on, those coloring books aren’t gonna fill themselves.” He dropped back down to the ground, watching Derek scoot over to color more.

 

And if he stole another glance at the picture above his computer then really, who could blame him?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're bored and want to harass me I have a tumblr under the same name <3


	5. Mustard and Nakey Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I... yeah. I'm a bad author. And I struggled with this chapter so much. I don't like the end. But sometimes you just need to push forward.

Derek put down the orange colored pencil he was using to draw what appreared to be an exploding sun and turned to look at Stiles, his lower lip pushed out and quivering.

“Stiles, I’m hungry.” It was nearly time for his dad to walk through the door, maybe if he was lucky he could stall long enough until he got home.

“Me too, buddy. Dad’s bringing home food, remember?” Derek nodded slowly, his entire face silently vibrating as tears gathered in his eyes.

“But I’m hungry _now._ ” Derek let out a sniffle as he looked up at Stiles, not breaking eye contact as he pushed himself up to stand beside him, placing his little hands on his arm. “Feed me!” Derek tugged on Stiles’ shirt sleeve, causing Stiles to lean to the left.

“D-Man, you don’t mutilate the priceless wardrobe, ok? Each item of clothing has been handpicked to accommodate all of this” Stiles waved a hand up and down his torso, wincing as Derek sucked in a large breath, his tiny face turning red. The sounds of a car pulling into the driveway couldn’t have come at a better time.

“Listen! Dad’s home! He has _food._ ” Derek perked up, his little ears twitching as the redness slowly left his face.

“Food!” He yelled, pumping a fist into the air. Stiles’ eyes bulged, his jaw dropping open as Derek climbed over him and raced out of the room. Fist pumping was _his_ thing, and now baby Derek was trying to do it? Was nothing sacred anymore?

“Hey, you can’t use the stairs by yourself!” Stiles jumped up and tore after him, skidding to a halt at the stairs. Derek was holding onto the railing taking one step at a time. With each step he took he released a puff of air and what sounded like ‘left foot, right foot’. Stiles smirked and got on top of the banister, holding on to it as he slid down past Derek.

“No fair!” Derek yelled, about halfway down the stairs. He looked at Stiles with a scary glint in his eyes as he crouched down and bounced on his legs. Stiles was not prepared for him jumping from the step towards him, nor was he prepared when his arms wrapped around Derek, the momentum causing him to fall to the ground just as his Dad opened the door.

“So. Having a nice time?” The Sheriff asked, one had holding a bulging bag of food, the other solidly on the door knob. Stiles tilted his head back and looked up at him. He had _that look_ on his face, the look that said ‘Why me?’

“Yes sir,” They both chorused, the Sheriff’s lips tugging into a smile as he looked down at them. Derek wiggled out of Stiles arms and launched himself at the Sheriff, tugging on a pant leg as he looked up at him.

“I’m hungry.” He said, his eyes moving down to zero in onto the bag.

“Then let’s get you fed, eh? Stiles, get up and help Derek. What’s the matter with you?” Stiles sighed, letting his head fall back to the floor with a _thunk_.

“Ya know, you keep asking me that question. Do you really expect a different answer?” Stiles pushed himself up off the ground. He bent down to grab Derek around the middle, throwing him over his shoulder like he was a potato sack. “I am, after all, related to _you._ ” Stiles marched them both into the kitchen, ignoring Derek’s little noises of frustration.

“FEED ME!” He bellowed, pounding his little fist onto the table as Stiles put him in his booster seat.

“Patience, young squire. Cutlery and beverages must be acquired before food can be obtained.” Stiles danced over to the cupboard as the Sheriff placed the bag on the table. He grabbed some cups and forks, making a stop at the fridge to pull out the milk and Hershey’s syrup. His arms full, Stiles backtracked to the table and stood next to his dad.

“Heyy, I seem to have overestimated my carry capacity. Little help?” Stiles nudged his dad with his shoulder. His dad took the cups and forks out of his arms and placed them down, allowing Stiles to put down the milk and chocolate.

“I forgot a spoon!” Stiles blurted, rushing back over to the silverware drawer. He plucked one out and slammed it shut, resting against the counter as he held it up to inspect it. “How could I forget the most important utensil of all?” He whispered. Derek began giggling, and as Stiles walked over to his chair next to him he actually began to snort.

“What’s so funny, you little runt?” Stiles plopped down and squirted a healthy amount of syrup into his cup, splashing milk down on top of it.

“If you like it so much, why don’t you marry it?” Derek chortled, his eyes bright as Stiles poured milk and syrup into the sippy cup next to his glass.

“If I married the spoon who would marry you?” Stiles quipped, thrusting the spoon into Derek’s cup and stirring vigorously.

“I’m pretty sure it’s illegal for a 17 year old boy to marry a toddler. You’d think at this point in your life you would already know that,” The Sheriff quirked an eyebrow at his son as he tossed over a wrapped sandwich. Stiles caught it and put it down on the table.

“Ouch, another parental barb. You see what I have to put up with Derek? Sure you want to marry into this family?” Stiles winked at Derek as he caught the other sandwich, causing him to giggle some more.

“Imagine waking up to that pout every morning. Is that really what you want, Derek?” The Sheriff was holding in a laugh, his eyes twinkling like Dumbledore on his best day. Stiles was not amused.

“He’s weird, but he’s mine.” Derek said, making grabby hands at the sandwich as Stiles unwrapped it. Derek’s eyes glazed over as he took in the sandwich, meat bulging from the sides.

“Thanks,” Stiles huffed, taking a knife and cutting the sandwich into smaller pieces.

“I tell myself that all the time, Derek.” The Sheriff took a bite out of his sandwich, his eyes laughing at him. Stiles’ face turned red as he plopped down into his chair, taking a massive bite out of his own dinner.

“Ngom Fikgrf” Stiles mumbled, his cheeks bulging like a chipmunk as he glared at the two other occupants of the room.

“I believe he just said ‘You’re right. By the way, I promise to stay out of trouble and will never turn my boyfriend into a little kid ever again. Also, you can have my fries.’” The Sheriff pulled the fries closer to himself as Stiles choked, tears streaming out of his eyes.

“Guh!” Derek stood up in his seat and leaned over, slamming a tiny fist on Stiles’ back. The piece of bacon dislodged itself from his throat, allowing him to take in a deep breath as he braced himself against the table.

“Thanks, D-Man,” Derek sat down with a pleased look on his face, his hands pulling meat from the sub. “First, eat my fries and die. Second, not my boyfriend! Where’d you even get that idea?” Stiles grabbed his container of fries and shoved a handful in his mouth, his eyes never leaving his dad’s face.

“He asked me if it was ok to take you out on that date. You know, the one where you came home with a mini-version of him?” His dad ate a couple fries, taking care not to smear them across his face as Stiles had.

“Everyone knew it was a date but me,” Stiles sat back in his chair and side eyed Derek. He was munching on a piece of ham, the sub roll completely torn apart in his search for meat. Mustard covered his hands and face, and there was a pickle slice below his left ear.

“My meat is gone.” Derek had demolished the sandwich, sparring nothing but the bread.

“Kid’s got an appetite on him, eh? Maybe I should have gotten him a bigger one…” The Sheriff trailed off as Derek focused his attention on Stiles’ sandwich.

“Stiles, feed me.” He licked his lips and tried to grab at the turkey club, his mustard-hands too far away to make any progress.

“No way dude, this is my bacon.” Stiles tore a chunk out of the sandwich and munched, moaning playfully as he ate. Derek’s eyebrows drew together while the Sheriff pushed back from the table.

“Alright, that’s obscene. I’ve got to take a shower. No teasing, Stiles. It’s not nice.” The Sheriff dropped the end of his meatball sub in front of Derek, ruffling his hair as he cooed in delight.

“Meatballs,” Derek whispered, opening the bun and rolling the two hunks of meat onto his plate. Stiles took another bite of his sandwich, watching Derek with a focused attention he normally saved for WoW raids.

Derek cradled one of the meatballs in his hands, lowering his face down until he was an inch away from it. His eyes flashed red mere seconds before he shoved it into his mouth, his cheeks bulging like a chipmunk.

“You have absolutely no table manners. It’s like you were raised by wolves or something.” Stiles paused, letting out a snort at his own joke. Derek growled as he chewed, his red eyes boring holes in Stiles’ face. Stiles took another bite out of his sandwich, chewing rudely as he met Derek’s stare. Stiles swallowed with an obnoxious gulp.

“You’re disgusting,” His dad said, breezing by the kitchen into the living room, stopping just to rifle through a drawer before making his way back to the bathroom.

“Everyone’s a critic,” Stiles sighed, pushing himself out of his chair and gathering up the remnants of the sandwich wrappings. He threw them all away, turning back towards Derek to see him shoving the last meatball into his mouth, his shoulders hunched and his eyes crossed.

“It’s time for someone to have a bath,” Stiles said, his face a mixture of pride and abject horror. Derek ate like he did, hunching over his food as if it needed to be protected (normally from Scott). One thing Stiles did better than Derek was making sure the food actually entered his mouth, instead of smearing it around his body. Though that might be due to the lack of fine motor skills Derek’s new body came with.

“No!” Derek spurted, chunks of meat flying out of his mouth as Stiles advanced on him. He stood up in his chair and leapt into the air, trying to make a getaway as quick as he could. Stiles caught him mid jump, holding him at arms length as he made his way to the stairs.

“Yes. You look like you have Jaundice, and there’s a funny smell emanating from you. It smells kind of like a mixture of mustard, socks, and broken dreams. Tubby time!” Stiles took the stairs two at a time, swinging around the corner and entering the bathroom. He reached down and turned on the water, putting the stopper in so the water wouldn’t drain.

“No tubby!” Derek was squirming as Stiles began to remove his clothing. Taking the pants off a tiny werewolf one handed was not the easiest of tasks. Derek’s pants were caught around his knees, his feet kicking out as he tried to tear them off his legs.

“The bath is going to happen regardless, so you should cooperate. The more you struggle the longer I’m going to make this last for you. I _suggest_ that you calm down.” Stiles finally removed the fabric from Derek’s legs, squatting down to pin him between his thighs as he began to work on his shirt.

“You butthead!” Derek howled, thrusting his head back into Stiles’ chest, knocking the air from his lungs. Finally Derek was naked, allowing Stiles to throw him in the tub. Water splashed out of the side, little droplets landing on his face as Derek glowered at him.

“I thought wolves liked water? Why are you being so difficult?” Stiles frowned at Derek as he dipped a washcloth into the water, lathering it with soap and making it sudsy.

“I’m naked,” Derek was blushing hard, his eyes downcast as Stiles lifted the cloth to begin scrubbing his arms.

“I’ve seen you naked before. I’ve seen you naked as an adult and as a child. Clothes don’t hold well when you turn into the Hulk, and this isn’t the first time I’ve seen you naked this size either. Naked is normal. Now close your eyes so I can scrub the food residue off your face.” Stiles smirked at Derek as he closed his eyes, his lips forming a pout. He brought the washcloth to his face, rubbing against Derek’s skin to get rid of the mustard. The pickle from earlier had disappeared, probably lost in the clothes struggle.

His entire face was yellow, the mustard practically ground into his skin. Stiles scrubbed hard as he could without hurting Derek, who was starting to become antsy.

“Stiles, that hurts!” Derek jerked away and fell backwards into the water, eyes wide with shock as his head broke the water. The _thump_ that followed made Stiles wince as he jerked forward, lowering his arms to grab him. Derek spit water into Stiles’ face and yowled, twisting himself around as Stiles clutched him to his chest.

“Oh my God, you would slip in the bathtub,” Stiles exclaimed, rubbing circles into Derek’s back. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Stiles whispered, repeating himself as he held on to Derek, relaxing little by little as he stopped crying.

“I’m naked,” Derek hiccupped, the back of his neck flushing as the words left his mouth. Stiles tightened his arms around Derek’s stomach, hiding his smile in his neck.

“Let’s get some clothes on you before you decide to slip out of my arms too, alright?” Stiles bent down and grabbed a towel from the cabinet, wrapping it around Derek as he stood back up. Derek’s face was bright red as Stiles turned him around.

“The big question is: Batman or Superman undies? You’ve got until we reach my room for you to decide.” And with that, Stiles strolled out of the bathroom, the thought of putting both of them to bed and forgetting the entire day at the forefront of his mind.

 

 

 

 

 


	6. Tree Branches and Converse

Stiles had always been a squirmer. He would fiddle with pens, tap his foot, and do any other manner of things to keep himself moving. It came as no surprise to his parents that this behavior existed while he was sleeping. Sharing a bed with Stiles resulted in bruised ribs, black eyes, and if one was very unlucky a shoulder check that could land oneself on the floor. For Stiles to lay still was highly unusual, as were the arms that were curled around him.

Another of his faults was his lack of alertness in the morning. The fact that it took him several minutes to process that there was a pair of muscular, black-haired arms circling his stomach and a prominent stick jabbing between his thighs could only be blamed on that. Really, who goes to bed and expects to wake up with a branch between their legs and a grizzly bear holding them down?

_‘…wait a minute…’_ Stiles thought, his eyes moving down his body, briefly gazing at the strong hands that were clasped around his midsection, before moving down to his legs. He lifted his left leg up to see a very hard, very large uncut penis resting on his thigh.

“What the fuck?!” He screamed, throwing his body forward only to knock the wind out of him as the stranger’s arms clenched against him.

“Wazz happenin’?” Derek’s head rose off the pillow it had been gracefully drooling on, peering down at Stiles who slowly turned his body to look at him in shock.

“Derek! You’re… man-sized. Heh. And very, uh, naked.” Stiles’ eyes flicked to the curvature of Derek’s ass, his face warming up as the muscles contracted as Derek yawned.

“Tired,” he groaned, head flopping back down onto the pillow, drawing Stiles closer as he burrowed into the bed.

“You’re poking me, dude.” Stiles could feel the heat on his cheeks, the near flaming sensation on his ears as Derek bucked his hips against him.

“S’nice,” He mumbled, his breathing evening out as he fell back asleep. Stiles felt his mouth drop open as Derek threw a leg over him, letting out a squeak as he coiled around him like a snake.

“D-derek… this is breaking the bro code. This is demolishing it and grinding up the pieces. This is totally throwing the dust into the air and setting it on fire. Derek. Derek!” Stiles squirmed more, only to still as Derek let out a low moan. Taking a deep breath, Stiles reached in-between his legs and felt around for the tip of Derek’s penis, grimacing as he pinched the head of it strongly enough to have Derek shoot off him with a yowl.

Stiles rolled off the bed, landing on the ground with even less grace than usual. He backed away from the bed, wincing as his eyes met Derek’s, the red hue promising retribution. Derek was cupping his dick, his eyes flickering down every so often to measure the rapidly healing nail marks on him.

“ _Stiles._ What is wrong with you?” He hissed, hunching over as his canines grew, lengthening out of his mouth. Stiles scurried back some more, his back coming into contact with the wall as he regained his composure.

“Bad touch, Derek. You don’t wake up naked next to someone and hump them, and you certainly don’t Chinese finger trap your Nanny!” Stiles squeaked as Derek shifted forward, getting off the bed with a grunt. He let his hands fall away from his front, his legs bringing him over to Stiles in three quick steps. He crouched down, his right hand grabbing Stiles’ jaw, forcing him to look him in the eyes.

“Thank you. For taking care of me,” Derek paused, letting his teeth return to normal, regaining the space needed for his tongue to move freely. “You and I both know that you would have begged for my humping before this little incident. And yes, I remember _everything._ ” Derek glowered at him as Stiles fought every urge not to look down at Derek’s crotch. How can you take a naked dude seriously? Especially one sporting wood. It’s impossible.

“Well, then you should remember how awesome I was in taking care of you.” Stiles let out a nervous laugh as Derek’s eyes raked down his face, his claws lengthening slightly against his skin.

“I also remember you dropping me in a toilet and forcing me to watch SpongeBob.” Derek’s thumb was stroking the corner of Stiles’ mouth, causing a tingling sensation to spread across his body.

“I wanted you to watch 90’s era cartoons. You’re the one who settled on that yellow freak.” Stiles’ eyes were following the movement of Derek’s thumb, his body shuddering at the touch.

“Stiles. We’re going to pretend the past few days never happened. You’re going to erase it from your mind.” Stiles’ eyes snapped back to Derek’s face, his eyes their usual stormy hazel.

“There’s photo evidence,” He said, gulping as Derek’s face came in close, stopping centimeters from his own.

“They get put in one, _one_ photo album. You show no one outside the pack. _No one._ ” Their foreheads were resting together, making the artery in Stiles’ neck pulse.

“Ok.” The words had barely left Stiles’ mouth before he was tilting his face up, his lips brushing against Derek’s own in a tentative kiss. Derek threaded a hand behind his head, deepening the pressure behind his lips as his other hooked underneath Stiles’ arm to bring him to his feet.

“Wow,” Stiles breathed, eyes unfocused as they broke apart. Derek raised an eyebrow at him before grabbing his ass, pinning Stiles to the wall as he lifted his legs to circle his waist. Derek kissed him again, his hands roaming against his backside. Neither of them were prepared when his bedroom door opened, the knob digging into Derek’s back as it bounced off him. Derek staggered backwards, falling to the floor as he tripped over his own feet. He laid there, his muscles taut as Stiles laid sprawled on top of him, his face caught in a wince as the voice flowed into their ears.

“I think we need to discuss some boundaries. Derek, nice to see you’ve regained your height. Stiles, kindly remove yourself from his penis.” The Sheriff stood in the doorway, the top button of his shirt undone, clearly getting ready for his next shift.

“Dad!” Stiles squawked like a newborn bird, rolling off Derek who quickly covered himself with one of Stiles’ discarded shoes. “Nothing happening here! Nadda!” The Sheriff quirked an eyebrow at his son.

“Derek, put on some damn pants. Stiles, don’t you think maybe you should give the man a few days before you lay your dirty paws on him? For the love of God, he just went through puberty. For the _second_ time.” The Sheriff backed out of the room, making his way down the hall. “I’ve got to go to work. Try not to wreck the house.”

Neither of them moved when they heard the front door close. They didn’t even move when Derek heard the cruiser pulling out of the driveway. They just looked at each other, the redness in Stiles’ face receding with each passing second.

“Soo…” Stiles drawled, his eyes taking in Derek’s body for the millionth time.

“Fucking fairies, right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is totally the last chapter. I struggled for a long time with deciding how to move forward with this story until I came to the conclusion that there wasn't anywhere else I wanted to take it.
> 
> I'm really sorry for the long wait, but I hope that everyone likes it! I know it's short compared to the other chapters, but I feel like this is a cute way to end the story. I might do another outtake or two, maybe write a few more scenes to go along with this. Maybe.
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr with the same username. ace0389.tumblr.com 
> 
> Thank you for reading =)


End file.
